


Keeping Warm

by LadyIsabella



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Edging Kink, Fingering, M/M, Mainly porn, Mentions of brief underage stuff when Arthur was 15/16, One Shot, Partially Clothed Sex, Porn with some plot, Slow burn but trust me...worth it!, mild Dom/Sub, older/younger, oral sex (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 01:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIsabella/pseuds/LadyIsabella
Summary: Arthur Morgan is 20 and deeply in love with his mentor Dutch van der Linde. So on a cold night he heads off to warm up with Dutch...who is only to happy to help his boy out!





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all your encouragement and nice comments and kudos! :) I hope you like this one too! Let me know! Xoxo  
> Feel free to send requests to nekoink@hotmail.com :) Always Welcome!

** Unknown Camp 1883 - Winter  **

Arthur Morgan might have only been twenty years old, but hell he had seen a lot of life! Sometimes he thought he might have seen too much of it already. He was strung out, tired in his very bones, and in need of a break. He was unlikely to get one though. 

He sighed and looked out of the frosted canvas slit of his tent. He blew into his hands and shivered, despite his warm, rabbit fur lined coat. Dutch had bought it for him...along with the lined gloves and new boots. They’d had a good score, a few weeks ago, and as the winter was coming Dutch had made sure he was well wrapped up...

_ “Here you are son, you’ll be warm in that, my boy,” Dutch had said, clapping him on the back as the shopkeeper handed over the warm coat . “I don’t want you getting sick lad, we need you. ” Dutch’s eyes had been glowing dark spheres, full of promise and he’d leant in, when the shopkeeper went off to the back to fetch the gloves,  “I need you...”  _

_ “Sure Dutch...”  He’d answered, grinning shyly. He’d pulled on the coat and smiled just as the man returned holding the black leather and fur lined gloves. _

_ “Good lad! Right...let’s go find Hosea,”  Dutch tossed the gloves to him, paid the shopkeeper and strolled out, looking grand and handsome in his waistcoat and chains.  _

_Arthur had thought Dutch no less than a God when he’d taken him in, aged fifteen. He’d been young, desperate for love and attention, and halfway to feral from living on the streets. They met by chance. Well, not really. Arthur had been following the well dressed, dark haired man with the confident stride, and his older, dignified looking companion for a time. Dodging behind things if they looked around._

_ He had reckoned they’d have money. In fact he was sure of it. The younger manwith the darker hair, had that air of authority that Arthur associated with money . He had thought,  “Ha, couple of rich suckers...”  Well that had gone well! He’d hardly had his hand in the dark haired man’s pocket before a hand grabbed and twisted his wrist. He’d cried out in pain and slumped to his knees, held tight.  _

That had been the beginning of his life...And he’d never looked back. 

Arthur smiled at the memory. Dutch’s hand on his wrist, his fingers tight and unforgiving. His hands on his skin...He sighed and rubbed his own hands together, shivering. 

“God it’s damn cold!” Hosea said, walking past. “Oh lad, Dutch wanted a word, with you. I’m on watch, you can relieve me in a few hours.”

“Alright then, Hosea,” he said, rising from his position on the floor. He had been sitting so long he was stiff from cold. Arthur stammer a little and winced slightly as his body complained. “When are we going to head south? Get some damn heat in the bones?” 

Hosea laughed and shouldered his rifle. “Soon, lad, I hope. I can’t but agree!”

Arthur nodded, pulled up his collar and trudged through the snow to the small wooden cabin. It was the only standing structure, and had a small chimney breast. They were all sleeping in it, to avoid freezing to death; whoever on watch in the tent outside. He was glad it was his turn to get a heat! 

He stumbled up the broken wooden steps then knocked. 

“Come on in, lad!” A voice called. 

Dutch. 

There was no voice like it. 

Power. Seduction. Supreme Confidence...

He opened the door and the heat washed over him. He breathed in, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Jesus Dutch...It’s...hot in here. Thank god.” He smiled then stopped, blushing a colour that had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with Dutch...

The reason for Arthur’s being was seated in front of the fire, one leg resting on the knee of the other, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other. Where on earth the man managed to get cigars on such a regular basis between fleeing the law was a mystery to Arthur but damn did it make a fine image!

Dutch grinned and raised his shot glass to him. “Evening Arthur...Come and sit down, son, warm your bones.” 

Arthur heard himself say, “Sure Dutch,” as he strode over and sat down on the rickety wooden chair beside his reason for being. He leant forward and held his hands into the heat of the flames. He sighed happily as he started to feel like himself again. 

“Quiet night out there?” 

“Yeah, not a peep from anything,” he answered, smiling. 

“Good...good...You did a fine job lad. Then again, I always knew you would,” Dutch replied, taking a drag on his cigar. 

Arthur flushed under the praise, though if questioned he’d have sworn left, right and centre it was from the heat of the fire! “Ah, shucks Dutch. I ain’t not prize pony.” 

Dutch laughed and clapped him on the back. “Ah, don’t sell yourself short, my boy! You’ve done us proud time and again. You’re my boy, always will be,” he added, finishing up his cigar. He looked at Arthur, a gleam in his eye. “Got us some time before Hosea comes back to get me out on watch...How shall we spend it?” 

“Ugh...I...” he grinned shyly and shifted his chair around a little, to face Dutch. “We...we could...get blind drunk? Keep warm you know?” 

“Ah, but lad, I’m on watch next. I can’t be on guard if I’m drunk. Besides, I know a few other ways to keep warm...Ones I know you like,” he quipped, with a smirk. 

Arthur blushed again and felt his pants grow tighter. “Ugh...Sure Dutch,” he said, glancing at the window. “But...what if Hosea...” 

Dutch laughed, deep and fruity sounding. It was enough to set Arthur’s blood on fire, and he knew it. “Don’t worry about that, son. Hosea ain’t a fool, whatever he pretends to be. He’s ridden with me long enough to know about my tastes...” 

“But...you like women too, Dutch,” Arthur said. He could have kicked himself. Here Dutch was, offering him untold pleasure, and he couldn’t stop speaking. 

“Course, lad,” he replied, tossing his cigar stub into the flames. “The world is full of pleasure....why only pick one flavour when you can enjoy all? Now...” he turned to face Arthur, his hands on the lad’s thighs. “Did you want to talk about my proclivities or do you want to get warm?”

Arthur grinned coyly. Dutch, as always, cut right to the quick. “Get warm, Dutch, definitely get warm...Though...Later...I’d not mind hearing about...you know...”

Dutch laughed again and reached out, cupping Arthur’s cheek, his thumb sweeping over the stubble there. “Then I promise to enlighten you...later. For now...come here,” as he spoke, his voice dropped, low, gravelly, sexy as all hell. His hand dropped to Arthur’s collar and he tightened his grip, pulling -though Arthur offered no resistance- the boy towards him. 

Their lips met in a mesh of lips and tongue. Arthur could taste the whisky and smoke on Dutch’s tongue. He moaned into it -later he’d be embarrassed about his neediness but for now he didn’t care one jot- and gripped his lover’s waistcoat with calloused hands. 

He needed Dutch. He always needed Dutch. Ever since the man had first cupped his cheek and told him he was his son. Their first kiss...their first touch...that first night...Arthur would burn down the world if anyone ever took Dutch from him. 

And the older man knew it. He knew full well how desperate Arthur could get. And damn did he exploit it! 

Dutch grinned against his lips and pulled back, laughing softly as Arthur made to follow. He gave him a quick peck and said, “Now now, son, patience is a virtue.”

“Pretty sure...Ugh...” Arthur said, adjusting his pants and wincing at the pleasure-pain that jolted through his burning blood, “That you took...any virtue I had a long time...shit...ago...” He shifted in his seat and blushed. His cock was rock hard and dying for Dutch’s hand. 

“Pretty sure,” came the reply, cool and calm and collected, “That you gave me your virtue...willingly. I seem to recall it was you, aged...what? Fifteen? Sixteen? Not long after we plucked you off the streets, who came into my tent...” 

Arthur blushed. He’d been a needy little bastard even then. “Alright, alright, Dutch...stop teasing...”

Dutch smirked and slowly his hand moved to palm Arthur’s straining erecting through his pants. “Oh, son, we have barely begun to tease...By the time I am done with you tonight, you will be weeping.” 

*

Arthur had no idea how much time had passed. All he knew was that he was hoarse from moaning, from crying, from begging, calling Dutch’s name and cursing him to high heaven. He was soaked with sweat and must have looked destroyed; lying on his back beside the dying fire, the flames casting shadows over his prone body. Dutch between his spread thighs...

All the more so, he thought, as he stared at Dutch above him, who looked so composed even now. He was still dressed, well mostly; his waistcoat was abandoned on the floor, and his shirt was undone, revealing his broad, hairy chest that Arthur wished to press his face against. His gun belt was off too though he still wore his pants, unlaced just enough to reveal his hard, thick cock. 

That cock had always intimidated him. He remember the first time he had knelt before Dutch, watched with wide, nearly innocent eyes, as the man had slowly unbuttoned his pants and drew his cock out. 

_ “It’s huge...” he had said,  “I’ll never be able to take that...”  He’d been disappointed by the thought. He had so wanted to please Dutch...In any event, he’d managed it. And well, he seemed to recall. After some careful preparation.  _

“Arthur...” Dutch’s voice snapped him from that particular memory. “Am I boring you?” He teased, shifting the three fingers he currently had buried inside him. “I can stop...if you want...” He slowly withdrew them, making Arthur whine and try to close his legs to stop him.

Everything felt like jelly though. He was so strung out. And hell, Dutch hadn’t even fucked him yet.

“N-no, Dutch...I...Shit...” he groaned at the feeling of sparks up and down his spine as those ring decorated fingers toyed about his rim. “I just...Ugh...” He lost his train of thought as Dutch pushed the ringers slowly back inside him, their way eased by the gun oil he’d produced from his saddle bag. 

“Well...stay focussed lad...You might learn something,” he teased, twisting his fingers as he spoke. He edged deeper and swept them over the little bundle of nerves inside Arthur. 

“Shit!” The boy below him groaned and tossed his head from side to side briefly. Sweat made his skin glow in the fire light. He looked wrecked, debauched...and utterly beautiful. 

Dutch’s eyes strayed down from Arthur’s blissed out face to his straining cock. It was red and hot looking, leaking pre-cum from the nearly purple head. He smirked. Arthur knew the rules. He couldn’t come without permission. And he was such a good boy too...only rarely breaking said rule. Usually on purpose, because he liked the punishment just as much as the reward. 

“This all for me, boy?” He asked, using his free hand to slowly stroke over the straining cock. 

Arthur groaned and bit his lip, his eyes slamming shut as he desperately tried to thinking of anything, anything at all, to stop him from coming.”P-please...shit...p-p-lease Dutch...I...can’t...” Tears formed in his eyes and he felt them run down his cheeks, hot, yet cold due to his inflamed skin. 

Dutch cupped his cheek tenderly, releasing his cock in the process, and wiped the tears away. “Son...hush, hush now, it’s alright...I’ll take care of you, you know that? Always...”

He nodded, unable to speak without bursting into tears, or so it felt like. 

“Good boy....my sweet boy,” Dutch crooned softly. He gently eased his fingers from Arthur’s ass, watching for a second as his hole fluttered around the hot air of the cabin. He reached down and took Arthur’s strong thighs in his hands and held his legs open for a moment, then pulled one over his shoulder and reached down to grab his own cock. “Ready boy?”

Arthur nodded, nearly sobbing he was so desperate. 

“Relax son...just...” he slowly pushed inside the tight, delicious heat of Arthur, “Relax...” 

The boy groaned and shuddered as he was slowly filled. The pleasure setting his already boiling blood on fire entirely. He arched up slightly, curling his toes on the leg that was draped, rather inelegantly, over Dutch’s shoulder. The stretch, the pressure, the tight, never ending pleasure, coupled with the heat in the room and his desire to come was too much...

Arthur let out a shuddering breath and his control snapped just as Dutch bottomed out. Just as his cock brushed over that sweet spot. Hot, searing seed erupted from his cock and stained his stomach, mixing with his sweat. 

Dutch chuckled. He was as cool and calm as ever, little showing of his own desire and passion. For now, anyway. “Arthur...Arthur...Arthur,” he chided, “Now...what did I tell you? You didn’t wait for permission...Well...” he slowly rolled his hips. “This is going to get very intense for you, lad...” 

“Shit...I...” Arthur tried, but fail. He just slapped his arm over his eyes and half laughed, half sobbed. “Well...Jesus...I...” 

“Hush...I’ll deal with your slip up later...for now...” 

The pace Dutch set was brutal one moment; pounding into Arthur as if he wished to kill him, and then the next he would slow right down, rolling his hips into him, balls to balls, driving desperate squeaks and groans from the boy in equal measure. 

Arthur groaned into his arm, eyes closed, focussed entirely on the feel of Dutch inside him, spreading him open, his cock filling him entirely, perfectly...wonderfully stuffed full. Dutch’s hand on his thigh, burning into him, almost like a cattle brand. He supposed he was just as much Dutch’s as a cow was it’s owners, with or without a brand. 

“I’m gonna come in you boy,” Dutch’s voice sounded closer. He opened his eyes and blushed. He had leant down, his face inches from Arthur’s. “Going to fill you up, you like that don’t you lad?”

“Mm...” he nodded quickly, his hands coming up to grip Dutch’s shoulders. “P-please...” 

Dutch pulled back, and thrust into Arthur with abandon, each slam into him making the boy cry out and moan. The sound of skin on skin, and the crackle of the fire punctuated by yelps and groans as the dance neared its conclusion. 

Finally, finally, Dutch slammed home once more and still, groaning as he emptied himself into Arthur. Marking him, branding him as his. His seed soothing away the lad’s desperation. 

He collapsed on top of Arthur and they both lay still, breathing hard. Their bodies, sweat slicked and hot, stuck together like two grains of rice. Not a gap between them, Dutch’s cock still buried deep. 

Dutch reached up and stroked Arthur’s sweaty fringe back. “My boy...My perfect boy...” he whispered. “You warm now?” He teased, with a sleepy smirk. 

Arthur grinned and opened his eyes. “Sure Dutch....” 


End file.
